


sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola

by phonepower



Category: Twister (1996), Watchmen (TV 2019), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Anxiety, Multi, POV Original Character, Road Trips, Scientific Inaccuracies Everywhere, Storm Chasing, the inherent eroticism of being insomniacs together, the storm chasers all have nicknames for each other and it's very silly. it's great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonepower/pseuds/phonepower
Summary: It's May 1997, and there's a storm for the Watchmen to chase.
Relationships: Angela Abar/Calvin "Cal" Abar, Dan Dreiberg/Rorschach, Laurie Juspeczyk/Calvin "Cal" Abar, Wade Tillman/Original Character, past Laurie Juspeczyk/Dan Dreiberg
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	1. timebomb

**Author's Note:**

> it's simple. i like watchmen and i like twister... and i love wade (:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cypress Campos, prospective storm chaser, joins Dr. Abar's team for a weekend of tornado hunting.

The sky was different in Oklahoma, Cypress decided as they drove up the road that would bring them to Angela’s farmhouse. The atmosphere and earth knew nothing of political boundaries, of course, much less of those brought and made the way this country had been carved open into a bleeding wound. The sky here this weekend simmered promisingly, towers of cloud building up on the horizon under the early morning sun. The chase would go on today, and Cypress hadn't quite decided if that was ideal, yet. 

As soon as they had taken the last exit off the highway, the blood felt like it had left Cypress's body, knuckles pale as their hands gripped the steering wheel, tunneling their worldview to a narrow point in their mind's eye.

They cannot fuck this up.

As reckless Cypress could be, they could not want to fuck this up. You can't be reckless in storm chasing, not when it meant the possibility of losing your life. Even more important to Cypress, they couldn't fuck this up because of who had believed in them enough to give them this opportunity. Dr. Dreiberg had been kind enough to sponsor them throughout their undergrad track at A&M, writing them glowing letters of recommendation for their master's. Cypress thought him a bit foolish to give them the leg up in finding a lab to work for out West, getting them in touch with their former pupil-turned-storm chasing legend Dr. Angela Abar, but they couldn't let this fall through now.

Cypress blanched as they got to Dr. Abar's driveway; they must've been too preoccupied with their shortcomings to notice the entire storm chasing crew of OU camping out in the front yard of her farmhouse, vehicles parked over the lawn and all.

"Jesus." In another time, they would've put the Chevy in reverse, backed out through the wooden post fence, and raced back down to the RGV. But they couldn't run back to an empty house of unkempt promises with no job, and they were really hoping to do actual field research out of grad school. A chance hadn't been given to them—it had practically been spun from wool to gold for them.

They parked their Chevy Blazer in the grass by the entrance of the driveway, figuring that Dr. Abar wouldn't mind. Or maybe she would, Cypress thought frantically as they got out of the car, hoping the walk over to the scientists would calm them down. Near where they parked, a short Black woman was fiddling on top of an older yellow Jeep pick-up truck with what looked like a radar dish, wires poking out from it. "Fuck!" she exclaimed as sparks flew everywhere. The fabled Dr. Abar herself.

She stood in the truck bed, wiping her hands off on the sides of her khakis. “Cypress Campos?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Cypress answered as they watched Dr. Abar jump out of the back of the truck bed, offering a handshake. Cypress smiled, trying to not be too much of a fan. “It’s incredible to meet you, Dr. Abar. Thank you for letting me come out here.”

For all her pleasantness, Angela’s eyes were serious. “Dr. Dreiberg has told me a lot about you, Campos. Don’t disappoint me.” 

Cypress chuckled, “I won’t,” hoping that they weren’t lying as Angela pointed out the rest of their team for the weekend. 

The veteran tornado scientist gestured to the two vehicles nearby. "The Ford belongs to Alex and Jenny—you'll hear us calling them Red Scare and Pirate Jenny over the CB. They're in charge of navigation during the chases." Two people were lounging in lawn chairs in front of the car in question, a woman of an olive complexion dressed in the grunge fashion popular at the moment, the other a pale man in a quite garish red tracksuit. They seemed to be arguing over a pile of maps—well, more like the man in the tracksuit was arguing a one-sided fight while the woman rolled her eyes at him. "You'll be riding with Wade in Archie for the weekend."

"Archie?" Cypress's smile grew wider as they looked over at the brown mini-bus just a few yards over. "That was Dr. Dreiberg's ride, wasn't it?"

Angela smiled, strained. "It was. He left it when he and his... partner retired from chasing. The majority of our equipment is in that Vandura, so Wade usually plays it safe and stays out of most of the action." She must have noticed the disappointment on their face. "You'll be seeing plenty this weekend, Campos. You haven't done anything like this before, haven't you?"

Cypress shook their head. "I'll stay out of y'all's way well enough."

Angela agreed. "Hopefully we'll have plenty of data to process by the end of Sunday."

During their conversation, Cypress had somehow failed to notice a new visitor approaching them over from Archie. A white man, lean and around their height, approached them, mirrored sunglasses glinting in the sunlight under his red baseball cap. Must be Wade, Cypress thought. 

Angela introduced both of them to each other. "Cypress, this is Wade Tillman. He's been with us almost from the beginning of our—my leading of the lab. Wade, this is Cypress Campos. Dreiberg sent her." 

"Pleasure to meet you," Cypress offered a handshake. The man looked cautiously at them, eyes in a half-squint, before returning the handshake.

"Wade's fine," he said, Oklahoman twang heavy in his gravelly drawl. 

Angela checked out of the conversation as a shiny red Dodge Ram pulled up the driveway. She tensed up before sighing. "Let me take care of this." As Angela made her way to whoever was in that Dodge, Scare and Jenny walked over to Wade and Cypress. 

"Cypress, huh?" the one called Jenny came over, Scare not far behind her. "Name's Jenny. This is Red Scare."

"You're the Cornell guy, yeah?" Red Scare asked in a thick European accent that Cypress couldn't place, munching on a sandwich he seemed to have procured from midair. 

"Yeah, that's me. Cypress Campos, at your service." 

"Campos? You from around here?" Jenny asked.

Cypress shook their head. "Nah, you must be confused. I grew up in Deep South Texas. Maybe you've heard from Dr. Abar? We went to the same college." They relaxed as they saw Jenny take their comment without question. "I'm real grateful y'all are letting me tag along."

"Pssh," Scare waved them off. "No problem if it's no problem with Angela."

"Ever since Cal and her split the team's not been the same. We all thought it'd be nice to have fresh blood for a change," Jenny continued, keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding.

As far as storm chaser drama went, there wasn't much to be gossiped about when one was busy trying to keep the public informed of nearing danger. The Abars' split, however, had drawn a lot of attention over the past few months. No one was expecting OU's powerhouse tornado-hunting, frontier-pushing couple to split, much less for Cal Abar to shack up with Laurie Juspeczyk, another well-known former chaser, and, messily, Cypress's old advisor's ex-wife. 

"Oh," something clicked in Cypress's head as it whipped from their new companions to the Dodge that had just arrived. Right outside of, Angela and Cal seemed to be arguing over a set of what was probably divorce papers as Laurie watched on. "Ohhh."

Wade, who hadn't said much the entire time, spoke up. "Which one of us is going to go over and save Angela from whatever that is?" 

"She's fine," Jenny said, rolling her eyes at him. "Angela can take care of hers—Oh, shit, she's coming over." 

Laurie Juspeczyk was dressed to the nines despite being in the middle of rural Oklahoma. For some reason, she had felt the need to blow out her hair and dress in heels just to walk in the mud out here, but she was a woman on a mission: intimidate her new main squeeze's ex-wife and the rest of her lab. 

And it kind of was working.

"Laurie Juspeczyk," she introduced herself as if it was needed. She cast a glance at Wade. "What's so funny to you, Mirror Guy? Long time no see." That dropped Wade's smile quickly. 

"It's Looking Glass.”

"Fun," Laurie said before turning to Cypress. "I haven't seen you before."

Hesitating, Cypress offered a handshake nonetheless. They couldn't exactly be rude to Dr. Dreiberg's ex, despite their not-so-amicable split. If Dr. Abar was the stuff of legend in the tornado science community, then Dr. Juspeczyk was nothing short of a god, having been part of Dan’s lab back in the 80s. "Cypress Campos."

"No code name?" 

"I'm just here for the weekend."

Laurie hummed. Cypress and the others pretended to not stare behind her at Cal, the other Dr. Abar, as he calmly looked on while Angela looked for something in her truck. 

Laurie hummed. Everyone else pretended to not stare behind her at Cal, the other legendary Dr. Abar, as he calmly looked on while Angela looked for something in her truck. Wade excused himself back to the van, mentioning something about keeping the CB radio company. 

"So," Laurie began, turning to Jenny. "Where is it?"

Pirate Jenny huffed melodramatically, rolling her eyes before leading Laurie to one of the other parked vehicles, an older Ford pick-up. In the truck bed were two large, silver cylinder canisters, complete with flashing lights and plastic covers. Cypress couldn't contain a grin. 

Red Scare leaned over and stage-whispered into Cypress's ear. "You got lucky this weekend—you've heard about what we have been working on, right?"

They nodded. "Dr. Dreiberg told me. Dr. Abar's dream project."

Said Dr. Abar and her ex-husband had walked over, with Angela a few steps ahead of Cal. She stepped onto the truck bed, proceeding to detail what exactly the contraptions—nicknamed "Dorothy"—did. Cypress's eyes felt like they were about to cross from all the jargon, overwhelmed. 

"Angela," Wade hollered suddenly from Archie's bus door. "Panda from the NSSL radioed over. We got one!" 

"Alright," she said. Angela's eyes were something fierce, gleaming in the morning sun. "Let's load up!"


	2. child in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team heads towards their first target. Safety is ignored.

Archie the Owlship, for a bus that's been in use for over a decade, was surprisingly sturdy as it hurdled down the road behind the rest of the caravan. The sky had been overtaken by a giant shelf cloud, dark and harsh in the fading afternoon light. The line of storms that were about to crash across Tornado Alley this weekend was beginning to rear its head, and it didn't look pretty.

They drove directly toward it.

The interior of Archie's cargo portion was lined on one side by doppler radar screens, lighting up the inside of the camper. A work table beside it was covered in schematics and instruments, which Cypress hadn't been able to check out before having thrown themself into the front passenger seat. From what they could tell, Archie was still state-of-the-art, its worn-down exterior deceiving to the eye.

Their chauffeur was silent, eyes strictly on the road—or at least, that's what Cypress hoped his eyes were doing behind the gaudy mirrored sunglasses. Over the CB radio, Cypress made out Angela arguing with Cal about something, while Laurie interjected. Red Scare and Pirate Jenny snickers were also broadcasted, along with the prog-rock they were playing in their car. Out of all of the big personalities on Dr. Abar's team, Wade seemed the most reserved so far. Cypress almost wanted to prod Wade about the team dynamics, but they figured they would see that for themself soon enough, opting to do what they had come for instead.

"So," Cypress broke the silence. "What d'you need me to do? I don't wanna step on any toes this weekend."

Wade hummed, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Archie shook as he suddenly swerved, the winds outside picking up considerably. He stayed calm as Cypress yelped. "I reckon I haven't been too welcomin' so far. I'm used to working alone. Angela didn't give us much notice that you'd be joining us this weekend."

"It's okay," Cypress word-vomited. "I'm fine with silence. Totally cool. I can just sit here and chill, that's fine. If anything, that gives me more time to not freak out, y'know?" Cypress was not an anxious person by design, but this weekend was already proving to be a bit much for them. They had a sinking feeling they'd know soon enough if they're cut out for this line of work.

"Dr. Dreiberg spoke of you highly to Sister Night," Wade stated, voice level. Cypress quirked an eyebrow at the nickname but said nothing. Wade continued, "You're no intern. Stepped toes are better than squandering an opportunity not many get." 

"Yeah," Cypress agreed. "Alright. Thanks. Well, how can I help, then?"

Wade opened his mouth as his answer was cut off by Jenny's voice coming over the CB. "Glass, watch your 11. We're taking a sharp left, over.”

"Copy that, Jen," he answered into the handheld mic. He turned to Cypress, brows furrowed. Ever deadpan, he simply said, "Hold on."

They tore down the road, Archie jolting as Wade turned the vehicle towards the funnel cloud. In front of them, the rain wall approached, suddenly surrounding them, the hail of the storm pummeling the roof without mercy. Cypress couldn't help but grab onto the armrest a bit tighter.

Sensing Cypress's discomfort, Wade tried tapping into his non-existent comforting skills. "This isn't the first time we've gone out into storms like these. This one's just an F-1. Now, I can't guarantee that something won't go wrong, but we've gotten out of tighter spots more often than not."

"I appreciate the honesty," Cypress smiled shakily. "How long you've been chasing?"

"I joined a bit after Angela got in charge of the lab. I'd worked for the NSSL before that, but after I had heard Dreiberg and Juspeczyk retired, I figured they'd be needing more hands on deck." Wade's response ended there, and Cypress felt a bit silly for waiting to hear more. Their presence was already draining him socially, they thought. Typical Cypress. 

Wade surprised them after a few minutes. "Why do you want to be a chaser?"

Now it was Cypress's turn to be interrupted as Angela's voice came over the CB. "Stay back! We're going off-road." Objections from Alex and Jenny ensued.

Cypress held their tongue, looking at Wade. His face remained stony, tension starting to show at the corners of his frown. "I hope she knows what she's doing." After a moment, he adds, "Look."

His left hand pointed through the windshield and past the rain, which was beginning to thin out, to a blurry cone coming down from the Oklahoman heavens down into the field left of the road. Cypress gasped quietly, trying to hide their enthusiasm. As soon as it touched ground, it would be a tornado. Wade pulled Archie over to the side of the road as Jenny and Alex in front of them did the same. 

Outside, the wind is still harsh, but not nearly as bad as what Drs. Abars and Juspeczyk were driving into right now. Cypress set up a large, clunky but brand-new video recorder as Wade tried to figure out what was going on with the others, who had parked nearby in front of them. Red Scare kept whooping and hollering at the tornado in front of them as Pirate Jenny kept telling him to shut up while she tried to talk to Wade. 

"She went off-road, Glass. There's a dirt road that runs parallel to this one." Pirate Jenny gestured down the paved farm road towards where the funnel was tearing its way across the fields. She looked weary, older than she was for a moment. "It would be helpful to all of us if she'd at least tell us what her line of thinking was before driving herself, and not to mention Cal and the fucking Silk Spectre, into that."

"No joke," Red Scare grumbled. 

"She wouldn't have done it if she thought she had a chance," Wade was quick to defend Angela. 

"Hey," Cypress meekly pointed out, much too nervous for someone nearing thirty-five. "Hey, it's gone." The tornado was no longer a tornado, funnel hanging down from the sky and dissipating as if it had never even been there. The Watchmen looked on, before climbing back into the cars. 

Further down the road, In the middle of the asphalt, Angela's Jeep Gladiator laid upside down in the middle of the road. Cypress inhaled sharply, and Wade swore. He had barely put Archie in neutral before jumping out, Cypress close behind.

The tornado had been weak, with minimal debris littering the surroundings, save for Angela's truck, the lone fatality so far. Ahead of them, Alex and Jenny had stopped in their tracks. Tension was replaced quickly by relief. Red Scare barked out a laugh at the sight of Angela, Cal, and Laurie trudging out of a nearby ditch, completely covered in mud. None of the three meteorologists looked worse for wear. Beside them, Wade let out a long, long sigh, taking off his mirrored sunglasses to rub at his eyes.

"How the fuck am I supposed to drive around now?" Angela lamented the sight of her faithful Gladiator. She turned to Cal, who immediately started protesting some request invisible to everyone else. Laurie rolled her eyes, walking to Cal's truck.

"They seem fine," Scare commented. Jenny chuckled.

"No!" Cal repeated. "It's brand-new, Angela." Ah, the truck, Cypress realized. Behind them, Laurie took out her blocky cell phone to call someone, ignoring the argument her boyfriend was now involved in. The entire scene was strange—it's as if these people were used to facing death and walking unscathed every day. 

Cypress scratched their chin, squinting at the clearing sky a little overwhelmed, a little woozy from the chase. But something inside them, beyond the anxiety and fear, began to bloom: exhilaration. 

They turned to Wade. "Is every chase like this?" they asked, not bothering to try to hide the wonder from their voice this time around. 

Wade smiled, green eyes twinkling. "Only if you're lucky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each chapter will be titled after a '90s song. this one is titled after the song dusty plays during the one of the chases in the movie


	3. germ free adolescents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing encounter, the team goes to dinner.

Cypress had a problem.

After the twister—which Cypress half-hoped would be the only one the group ran into this weekend, half-hoped that it wouldn't be—they loaded up and started driving back to Angela's farmhouse. Dr. Abar's yellow Jeep had received a brief, ridiculous eulogy by Red Scare after Angela had taken her belongings out of it along with some of Dorothy's metal remains, throwing them in the back seat of Cal's truck. Cypress could only imagine how the interior of the Dodge Ram was with her, her ex-husband, and her ex-husband's new girlfriend.

The sky was still cloudy, but the mid-afternoon sun broke through slivers of openings occasionally as they drove back east. Squall lines usually moved through fast and fierce, but this weekend was turning out to be... something usual. The highway asphalt soon turned from wet to dry, and Cypress finally felt like they could unclench their jaw.

Cypress had a problem, and the weather was not looking to help them.

The ride back was quiet, and neither Wade nor Cypress had spoken since the former had mentioned that they would probably pull into a gas station or diner to get something to eat. The machines in the back had been turned off. The second and third Dorothy prototypes sat in the back ready to go, the plastic and metal capsules shaking gently under the lids. Cypress was starting to doze off to the sound of the rustling when Pirate Jenny's voice came over the radio.

"LG, we're pulling into the next diner on the right."

"I'm fucking starving!" Scare said in the background before the CB went dead.

Cypress rubbed at their eyes. They stretched and yawned as Wade pulled into a gravel parking lot of a diner. Next to them, the others got out of their vehicles and made the best of the open air after a couple hours' worth of driving.

"You slept well?" Wade asked as Cypress took their seatbelt off.

"Oh, no. I tried, but, you know." Cypress gestured up to the sky, pointer finger whirling around. "Hard to get one's mind off of this."

Wade lifted his sunglasses to rub his eyes again before agreeing. "You get used to it." Cypress hummed, choosing not to voice their disagreement. They still had another day with the team, after all.

Wade and Cypress followed the others into the diner, glass door squeaking. The restaurant had seen better days, but it was well-loved, half-full even this far out of Tulsa. It was a classic, 1950s-style diner that had seemed to have given up the retro gimmick long before the vinyl on the seats had started to crack, but Cypress didn't care. Any good restaurant that had "seen better days" physically was bound to serve good food, and all they wanted after this day was a cheeseburger and ice-cold soda.

Cal and Laurie had taken up residence at a booth in a far corner of the diner, while the others had pushed two tables near the entrance together. Cypress looked at them briefly before being waved over to the tables by Angela. They took the closest chair, next to Jenny and across from Angela, and put their head down on the table before groaning out loud.

Angela chuckled. "I take it your first day isn't going well?"

Cypress looked up. "I'm not gonna say it didn't. But, holy shit, if I weren't so hungry, I might have thrown up from the anxiety of it all. I couldn't even sleep on the bus."

Jenny laughed next to them. "As soon as you get into a bed, hell, any flat surface, you'll be knocked cold."

"Thank fuck." Cypress reached over to grab a napkin from the holder and began folding it. An old habit from their teen years. Red Scare nudged Wade to look at the thirty-something's nervous tic, but the shorter man ignored him.

Angela, however, didn't hesitate to raise an eyebrow. Having a nervous wreck on the team wasn't necessarily ideal for her. "You might not think it, but the majority of chases turn up with nothing. It's mostly driving on end. You got lucky today," she said. Her tone was dismissive, but Dreiberg had told Cypress beforehand to not take it personally.

"She's a woman on a mission," Dr. Dreiberg had told them cryptically over the phone the month prior, fondness on his voice. "Keep up with her and you'll be fine." It was her way of giving Cypress a chance to prove themself to her.

A waitress's voice brought Cypress back to the present. "And you, sweetheart?"

Cypress kept fumbling with their napkin before putting it down. "Sorry, uh. Cheeseburger with fries, please? And a Dr. Pepper, if you have any?"

The waitress moved on, taking Jenny's order. Cypress sighed and looked back at Angela. "Would it be overkill if I thanked you again?"

"Yes. But I'll take it," Angela said. Cypress let out a sigh.

"I don't understand how you're dealing with us," Jenny said while munching on a tortilla chip from the basket the waitress had brought. "I would've hauled ass as soon as Sister Night had driven into that ditch." Angela stiffened a little at the jab, pouting. Scare laughed.

"Jenny," Wade warned from next to Angela.

Cypress just shook their head. "I'm used to it. I'm a nervous person, but I did come here for a reason, y'know."

"And what reason is that?" Wade asked. He still had his sunglasses on, even inside the dingy lighting of the restaurant.

Just then, the waitress returned with their orders. Cypress smirked at him playfully and tried to recover from their earlier anxiety, grabbing a french fry. "Sorry. Guess you'll have to wait to unlock that part of my backstory, huh?" They made eye contact with Angela, who looked at them, appraisingly. Reconsidering. Cypress took a bite of their burger, before cringing and swallowing. "Ack, hot!"

—————————————

Dusk had fallen by the time the Watchmen had finished off their dinners and rejoined by Cal and Laurie outside of the diner.

Pirate Jenny and Red Scare had walked ahead of them to their car, arguing about whose music to play. Cypress heard something about X-Ray Spex as Jenny slammed her door, arguing that the driver gets to choose what music to listen to before they drove across the highway to the fast station nearby. Laurie walked past Wade and Cypress, presumably to take another one of her many, many calls. By the Ram, Angela and Cal spoke.

"Angela," Cal started. "We can drive you home, but we'll be staying at a hotel for the weekend."

Angela tried to keep her confusion from showing. "You're not driving back down to Norman?"

Cal was a quiet, reserved man, but he looked bashful as he tried not to look at his ex-wife, choosing to focus on the remains of Dorothy I in the back of the Ram. "It wouldn't feel right to let you do this alone. She's mine, too, you know."

Angela sighed. "I know."

"Laurie wants to help. She'll stay... out of the way, but she's here if we need her."

"If you need her."

Cal was far from a cold person, but his voice seemed almost emotionless as he quietly agreed. "If I need her."

"Cypress," Wade mumbled from beside them, hanging his sunglasses on the neckline of his shirt. Cypress was a little relieved he wasn't going to drive in the dark with them on. "Let's fill up the tank now."

Cypress took a sip of their Dr. Pepper, which had been put in a take-out cup. Both people climbed into Archie, and Wade hesitated to turn the engine on. Cypress looked at him, waiting for an answer. He turned the engine, the radio coming to life.

Wade turned to them. "Tell me something interesting."

"What?"

Outside, Angela and Cal kept talking, more intensely now, but nothing divorce-worthy, Cypress noted. Around the corner of the diner, Laurie argued with someone on her phone, occasionally throwing her free hand up as she yelled into the receiver.

Wade repeated himself. "I'm buying time," he explained.

Cypress frowned a little before understanding dawned on them. "For Angela."

The man in the driver's seat nodded.

Cypress racked their brains for some trivia fact that wasn't completely insipid. On the radio, a familiar song started playing. "Oh!" they yelled, startling Wade a bit, brows furrowed. "Got one. You know this song?"

Wade shook his head.

"You don't know Savage Garden?"

"I don't listen to the radio often." He pulled down the driver's sun visor, revealing a CD holder, full of discs organized by color.

"Ah, cool. Maybe I'll bring some tomorrow?"

Wade nodded. Cypress smiled. Maybe the drive wouldn't be too bad tomorrow, then.

"Well, the song that's playing right now—that's 'I Want You' by Savage Garden." Cypress took another sip of their sod before continuing. "There's this one line—we probably missed it at this point—that goes 'sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola' when the singer is talking about the person he loves and they make him feel and all this lovey-dovey shit. It's great, I love it."

Wade snorted.

"Hey, I'm being serious! Thing is, the songwriters are Australian, and they'd never had Dr. Pepper before in their lives before coming to the States, right? After the visit, Hayes and Jones are trying to remember what the soda is called but can't. So they end up writing the description of the flavor for it." Cypress shook their near-empty styrofoam cup in Wade's direction. He smiled. "So. 'Chic-a-cherry cola.'"

"That certainly was interesting," Wade said. "Can't deny that."

Cypress obnoxiously polished off the rest of their soda, straw sucking at nothing. Wade laughed.

There was a tap on the driver's window. They leaned over to see Angela on the other side. Wade rolled down the window, letting the warm evening air flow in.

Angela had her arms crossed, but her eyes were grateful. "You didn't have to wait for me."

"We just wanted to make sure Dr. Manhattan over there didn't leave you in such a pleasant locale," Wade said wryly. Behind Angela, Laurie got into Cal's truck as he waited for Angela. "No rescuing needed today, though."

Angela smiled at both him and Cypress. "I'll see you both at the farmhouse. Good job today." She walked back to the Ram. Cypress felt lighter than they had all day.

From across the street Scare and Jenny honked that they were good to go. Cypress put on their seatbelt, and Wade backed the bus out of the parking lot onto the highway. It was dark, but in the distance, one could see the glow of Tulsa's city lights shining onto the low nimbus clouds that covered the night sky for now.

"Thank you," their companion said as the caravan picked up speed, only a half-hour away from their destination. Cypress looked over to Wade, and for the first time all day, they realized that he also looked like a load had been taken off his shoulders.

"For what? I didn't do anything."

"Reunions aren't necessarily the most ideal situations for our lab nowadays. Had you not been here, I have a feeling things could've gone south quick with our unexpected guests."

Cypress thought about their earlier, almost one-sided talk with the man across the aisle from them. The terse way he talked. His reluctance to leave a friend in need behind. Maybe they could be his friend to lean on. Maybe. In time.

"I think I'm glad I'm here, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i'm taking a lot of cues from “Beyond Twister: A Geography of Recreational Storm Chasing on the Southern Plains” by David Robertson and 'The Man Who Caught the Storm: The Life of Legendary Tornado Chaser Tim Samaras' by Brantley Hargrove, two really cool storm chaser accounts, this AU isn't going to be exactly like the movie. but that just gives us more time for character-driven plot babey...
> 
> also pirate jenny and red scare's entire dynamic is that he thinks they hate each other in a fun, cute sibling way, and pirate jenny genuinely hates him. it's great


	4. eyes without a face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cypress and Wade, through an obstacle course of misunderstandings, reach some common ground.

Angela's home was a fairly modest, two-story farmhouse a few miles out west from Tulsa. The chase had left them only a couple of hours away from her place, and Angela faux-begrudgingly offered the rest of the storm chasers (sans Cal and Laurie, of course) to spend the night. After the split, Angela lived alone in the relatively large home with her elderly grandfather, Will. What else were the empty bedrooms going to be used for? 

Will was fast asleep by the time by the time they arrived. The group did their best to not wake him up as they settled in the house, with Wade taking up residence on one of the living room couches, Scare in a bedroom upstairs, and Cypress and Jenny in the other leftover room. Angela, of course, went off to her own with hardly a nod. I would've too if I had almost died earlier today, Cypress thought. 

As Cypress put down their bag, Jenny motioned to the en suite bathroom silently. The younger person shook their head, and she went in. Cypress changed into their sleeping clothes—loose shorts and an even looser T-shirt—and crawled into one of the two twin beds in the room. They quickly decided Jenny had been wrong earlier; they hadn't been knocked out cold as their current roommate had promised. 

Eyeing their bag, they considered. Jenny turned the shower on in the bathroom. Cypress considered, and decided. They got up, quiet again, putting on sandals, throwing on a jacket, and ruffling in their bag before making their way downstairs as quietly as possible, through the living room, through the kitchen, and out the back door, before they could themself out of it. 

The sky was still somewhat cloudy, moonlight pooling across the fields beyond the porch of the house. Cypress took a look around the back porch. There was a rather inviting couch, a beautiful metal thing with white-and-floral print cushions. Sleeping on that would be nice, they thought, before shaking the thought away. Too close. 

Cypress walked around the house to the front, heading to their truck. No one would be riding in that tomorrow, anyhow, they figured. The ground was dry here, softening the sound of their steps. The nighttime air was more humid than it had been that morning, even as it picked up occasionally, blowing their curly hair into their eyes, mussing it up. Another promise of rain. They got into the truck cabin, slowly creaking open and closing the driver's door. 

The silence was a reprieve. Cypress leaned back, sighing. What a day. They reached into the pocket of their jacket and took out their Discman. Sweet synth played through their headphones soothingly. Through the windshield, they could see the clouds making their way across the night sky, drifting south. Guess we'll head that way tomorrow, they thought. For a moment, finally relaxing completely, Cypress almost didn't notice the man knocking at their window. 

"Fuck!" They rolled down the window, revealing a sleep-deprived Wade. Although he had pajamas and a bathrobe on, he was still sporting his baseball cap from earlier that day. "What is wrong with you?"

"You're up late." It wasn't quite midnight yet, but he seemed like the type of guy who would sleep early even on the weekends, especially during treks like these. The bags under his eyes said otherwise.

"Insomniac." Cypress shook their Discman at him. "You scared the shit out of me during “Eyes Without a Face.” That’s, like, my second favorite song on this thing. What are you doing here? Quickly."

Suddenly, Wade looked sheepish, and a little baffled at their outburst. "You weren't this forward earlier today."

"I tend to forget my anxiety whenever strange men are bothering me in the dark of the night. Answer my question, now.”

Both of them noticed Cypress's harsh whisper, although quiet, echoing through the night. Wade looked at the farmhouse, but no lights turned on. Cypress frowned. Wade gestured to let him into the truck. Cypress deepened their frown at him, but relented, clambering over to the other side of the cabin. Wade settled into the driver's seat. Cypress made sure the keys to the truck were still in their jacket. 

"Sorry," he said, closing the door as quietly as he could. 

"Okay. Answer my question."

It was his turn to lean back against his seat, looking more and more embarrassed. "There was a possibility you might have been out here to... look... at the equipment without supervision. I just wanted to make sure you were all set." The words hung in the air between both of them. 

"Holy shit." Cypress barked out a laugh, making Wade cringe. "You thought I was fucking stealing from y'all?"

"You'd been acting strangely all day—"

"Because we saw Dr. Abar almost drive into a fucking tornado!"

Wade huffed. "You were nervous before that."

"I'm a nervous person! I thought you would find that relatable instead of fucking damning." Cypress ripped the headphones from around their neck and shoved their Discman into the glove compartment. "We spent all day together, and you still think that?" 

Wade said nothing. 

"Get out of my truck."

"Listen—"

Cypress got out of the truck, deciding against slamming the door. They stalked over to Wade's side, opening his door. "Out of my truck. Please."

Wade got out as asked. "Listen," he said, putting distance between himself and the very flustered adult in front of him. He took off his baseball cap and ruffled his russet hair a bit before putting it back on. "I'm sorry. Hear me out."

Cypress waved their hands, throwing them out from their body in exasperation. "Well?"

"Angela was never going to take Cal arriving with Dr. Juspeczyk well. You get sent here by Dr. Dreiberg. All y'all get here the very day we're supposed to send Dorothy up." Wade's voice had been quiet and steady all day, and although he never raised his volume, his normally bored tone had turned into something steelier, something harsh. 

Cypress was not a fan of the interrogation. 

"Jesus Christ, dude, we were invited here! Never mind Cal and Laurie—"

"You're awful familiar with them."

"They told me to call them that! You spent all day with me in that old bus. You really think I'm here to steal designs? What is this, a comic book? A cop procedural show?"

"Why are you here, then?"

Cypress's face grew hot at the simple question. "Look, I don't know what great big storm chasing competition conspiracy you've got going on in that head of yours, but all I need you to know is that I have no part in it." 

They stared straight at Wade. "I'm just here to see if storm chasing could work out for me, since, believe it or not, I am a competent person! And I want to help people! Just like you! Just like Dr. Abar! It's just for the fucking weekend. Why can't you just trust me, man?"

"...You don't know how important this is."

"Uh, getting the chance to revolutionize meteorology? Save countless lives for generations to come? I think I might have an idea."

"Not that." Even though he wasn't much older than Cypress—he was in his early 40s, tops—he suddenly looked much older. Exhausted. "After Cal left, Angela focused on Dorothy and Dorothy only. You didn't see her. Jenny and I had to remind her to eat and sleep." 

Wade toyed with something in one of his pockets, unmasking his nonchalance. A glint of silver peeked out of there. His sunglasses. "If anything threatens this project... who knows how she would take it. I had to make sure nothing was going to get in the way."

That was the most Wade had spoken all day, and Cypress was surprised to feel themself cooling off after hearing that. "You're just looking out for her." 

"That is correct."

Cypress considered. They wished they still had folks who looked out for them like that around. As ridiculously misguided this man was, they could admit he was just doing his best to protect the people who mattered to him. 

They wished they could have that, someday. 

"Okay. I'm sorry." Cypress made sure that their last glare got to him. "Still sucks you thought I was stealing shit from y'all."

"And I apologize for the assumption." Wade's monotone voice made his apology sound wooden, but it was enough for his companion.

"And I swear, if this is a race thing, I will make your life hell, you hear?"

Wade shrugged. "It was not, but I accept that." 

Cypress let out a sigh. Above both of them, the moonlight was finally being cut off by the incoming cloud banks. In the dark, they could barely see Wade, but they knew they had his full attention. "You have to trust people, man.”

"You trust us after just knowing us for a day?"

Cypress didn't hesitate to answer. "No. But I'd like to."

Wade squinted at them. 

"At least know you can trust me." Cypress stepped closer to him, stopping when he flinched backward. "Sorry."

Wade put his hands in his bathrobe pockets. "It's fine."

"We should probably head back, huh?"

Wade looked relieved. "Sounds good."

The pair walked back to the house. This rain would pass, but the next morning the team would head out for a final day of chasing before everyone went back to their normal routines, and Cypress would go back down south.

"Cypress?" Wade's voice was soft.

"...Yeah?"

"You can play that CD in Archie tomorrow if you want." An olive branch. 

Cypress took it. "Thanks, Wade." The night was so much quieter without their harsh, angry whispers. Cypress thought it was a whole lot better. "You like rock?"

"Not particularly."

"Well. I'm sure we'll find something you like. Gotta buncha mixtapes in the truck back there."

Out of the corner of their eye, they could see Wade breathing out a deep, deep sigh. "I'd like that."

Cypress smiled a little. Just a little. "Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can tell this is mostly being written as an unhinged AU for me and my friends, but if you would like to please feel free to leave kudos and comments [:


	5. cruel to be kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things must converge, and they don't always do so neatly. For people like them, things never do.

The morning brought rain to northeast Oklahoma.

Cypress stretched, bones popping through their neck and spine. They groaned. Although it would've been nice to fall asleep in the bed Angela had so graciously offered them, they hadn't wanted to wake anyone up by walking up the stairs in the middle of the night. They had curled up in one of the loveseats in the living room instead, across from Wade on the full couch. He'd only fallen asleep after it started raining, drops rolling down the living room windows. Cypress had followed him into sleep soon after.

Cypress walked past an empty couch to their room upstairs.

They hardly ever fell asleep before taking a shower, usually too self-aware to fall asleep just like that, but the previous day had been unexpected. It was strange that they fell asleep as it was, much less without cleaning themself beforehand. The hot water spray from the showerhead was a godsend. They let themself enjoy it for a minute, before turning it off in favor of cold water. It would be rude to spend all of the hot water in the house.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the rest of the team had congregated. Red Scare and Jenny had taken upon themselves the task of making breakfast for the six people in the house. Eggs were broken, then fried. Bacon sizzled in a pan. At the table, Angela passed plates loaded with strips of bacon and fried eggs down to her grandfather Will, who sat by her at one corner of the square wooden table by the counter.

Cypress stopped in the doorway for a moment. Wade wasn't there. They shrugged, walking in and taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"Good morning." Angela sipped her coffee as Cypress sat down across from her and Will.

"Good morning," Cypress responded, trying their best to approach a semblance of a smile. They turned to Will, offering a handshake. "You must be Will."

He smiled over his eggs—boiled, not fried. Will was probably the oldest person Cypress had ever met in their entire life, including their grandparents, who they had maybe twice before their father had stopped taking them and their brother across the border to visit them. His eyes twinkled, and Cypress had the feeling that this man knew much more about them with just a look than they will ever know about him.

Will shook their hand. "Cypress, right?"

"Yes, sir." They felt a bit silly addressing him this way, but Cypress felt the need to show him some respect, even if it was just for him getting to this age. "Cypress Campos."

"Campos," he repeated, mimicking the wide vowels in their last name. "Where you from, Cypress Campos?"

"Texas, down by the border. Grew up right outside Brownsville."

"Brownsville," he repeated, taking a bite out of one of the eggs on his plate.

"Yes, sir. Lived there until I went off to college, and then farther up north for grad school."

Jenny took a seat next to Cypress. At the stove, Scare yelped as oil from the eggs burned his hand. Belatedly, they noticed they had never gotten a plate, too busy focusing on making a good impression on Angela's grandfather. Cypress barely had time to debate asking if it would be okay for them to grab one from the cupboard when one was set in front of them, utensils, and all.

"Mornin'," drawled a voice from behind them. Wade pulled out a chair, sitting on the other side of Cypress. He wore his baseball cap on wet hair, as well as his sunglasses. No one commented on it, so Cypress didn't, either. Everyone had their quirks.

Red Scare came over, sliding a few last fried eggs onto one of the plates in the middle of the table. Angela grabbed a couple more, before asking, "How did everyone sleep?"

"Like a fucking baby." Scare said.

Wade and Cypress looked at each other. "Just fine," he said tersely, overlapping with Cypress's quick, "Really good, thank you."

Jenny didn't say anything but gave both of them a look. Maybe they hadn't been that quiet, after all.

"So, Brownsville," she started, drinking orange juice from a glass. "What do you do when you're not running around chasing storms with a bunch of strangers?"

Cypress stiffened. "Well..." They looked down, pretending to be fascinated by their bacon. "I don't really know what to say. I don't really do much."

"Aw, come on, no one's that boring!"

Angela gave Jenny a look. "If she doesn't want to share, she doesn't have to."

Cypress flinched, before brushing it off. It didn't matter, they supposed. It was their last day with them, anyway.

But they relented. "I like movies."

"Yeah?"

"I thought  _ Trainspotting _ was good."

"Have you watched  _ Dante's Peak _ ?" asked Red Scare. "It's very good."

After a while, Cypress forgot their momentary discomfort, which they still quite didn't know how to address with the group. Plates were emptied, then cleared. The rain outside did not.

Despite Angela's eagerness to get back on the road, the collective voted to wait out the worst of the rain, whose sheets of raindrops draped across the property like silk curtains, wind picking up and blasting them nearly horizontal. Even if they got on the road, this particular rainstorm would probably move out of their grasp soon enough. The next band of storms was approaching Kansas and wouldn't roll through Oklahoma until mid-afternoon.

Cal and Laurie wouldn't rejoin the team until later, saying that there were some "issues" they needed to resolve first. They would meet up a half-hour southwest of Angela's farmhouse, converging before heading on west towards where they thought the tornadic activity was most likely to happen that afternoon. Whether or not it would be a bust was unknown.

Until then, Angela thought it was wise to look over the equipment. "We're running out of time," she had said, worry etching her graceful features. Cypress really hoped they got something this time, for everyone's sake, but mostly for Angela's. Her passion for the Dorothy project was making Cypress think twice about high-tailing it after the weekend was over.

Among other things, they tacked onto their thoughts, walking behind Wade through the rain back to Archie. As their anxiety and their typical reckless confidence grew, staying on the team out of spite to a certain someone didn't sound too bad. Wade almost slipped in the wet grass, and he swore under his breath. Cypress smirked. Not too bad at all.

They both checked over the television monitors that show the bright colors of Doppler radar data on the many screens. Although still not as accurate as they could be, they were instrumental in the chase for a twister. On radar, one could easily spot how a storm cell's "hook"—a wind rotation that could be knocked over by a strong horizontal wind current and then become a funnel cloud—weakens or strengthens. The former could mean failure. The latter, come unexpectedly, could mean death.

After checking the equipment, everyone loaded up and headed out onto the road. It would take a few hours to get to the converging point. Archie occasionally lurched in the wind, which picked up as they approached the storm cell hurtling towards them from the north. The drive itself was uneventful, with Wade not really speaking save for the occasional attempt to prod Cypress into some small talk before giving up, listening to a Nick Lowe song on the CD mixtape they had brought along as part of last night's olive branch.

Cypress could tell he was gearing up to ask them something. Despite the sunglasses, Cypress could feel his gaze fall onto them occasionally during the three-hour ride, hands readjusting on the wheel, before giving up. As "Cruel to Be Kind" wrapped up, Cypress hit the previous track button once more.

"I've never heard that song before today," Wade commented. "You sure like it a lot."

"I don't," Cypress said evenly.

Wade raised an eyebrow at that, but his companion offered no explanation. He shook his head a little, deciding to ask them what was on his mind.

"You flinched," he said after a while, his voice barely audible over the din of the tires.

That caught Cypress's attention, their head snapping towards him. "What?"

"Back there in the kitchen, you flinched."

Cypress glared at him. "And if I did, so what?"

Wade looked taken aback at their sudden attitude change. His breath caught in his chest at seeing the look in Cypress's eyes—a simmering  _ something _ ; what it was, he wasn't sure, but he didn't like the look of it. It looked too much like hurt.

So what, indeed. "We don't have to talk about it," Wade said calmly, trying not more of a mess than he already did.

Cypress's glare softened at that but said nothing. "Thanks," they said softly.

Wade turned his eyes back onto the road, earning a sigh from their passenger.

Over the radio, Angela's voice: "We're getting close. Scare?"

There's crackling as Scare grabs the mic from her, saying, "We should be only a mile off."

"Has anyone heard from Cal?" Angela said, clearly annoyed.

Wade grabs the CB mic. "No, sorry Angela." Cypress could only imagine Angela in the passenger set of Jenny's car in front of them, tense. They turned to look at Wade, who looked equally concerned. It's not like they could use either Archie or Jenny's Country Squire to deploy Dorothy.

"Wait," Angela says. Cypress stands up taller in their seat, craning their head to look in front of the car ahead of them. In the distance was Cal's truck, along with a familiar white truck, parked on the side of the oncoming lane. Both cars started slowing down, before pulling over on the opposite side. As soon as the Ford stops, Angela is out, stalking over towards Cal.

Across the street—with the incoming storm as a backdrop to what was sure to be a disaster—Cal stood in front of the driver's door, arms crossed. Cypress couldn't really tell from inside Archie, but the normally unfazed man seemed... sad.

Cypress jumped into the back of the bus, getting Dorothy ready to be brought over to Cal's truck. Any animosity against Wade is forgotten for the time being, as they both grab onto the handles and hustle on over across the street. The sky was darkening fast, a fine rain spraying over the people. As soon as Dorothy was loaded into the truck bed, Cypress took a breath to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Before you say anything," they overheard Cal telling Angela over the sound of rumbling thunder, "Laurie wanted to know that this was not her intention at all."

Just on cue, Laurie climbed out of the white truck's passenger seat, slamming the door. She gave the front of a truck for good measure. Jenny snorted but quickly stopped herself after seeing the pure annoyance on Dr. Juspeczyk's face.

Later on, Cypress would laugh over some fries, whispering conspiratorially to their companion about how of course this would happen to them, out of all people, on this project, out of all opportunities. Because the person who climbs out of the truck's driver seat is none other than Dr. Dreiberg.

"Laurie," he starts, looking upset with a red face. He walks over to Laurie, who had been unsuccessfully trying to get into Cal's truck.

Behind him, a short white man with the reddest hair Cypress had ever seen in their life gets out, fuming. Cypress hears Wade groan beside them. “Laurel," the stranger says in a near-growl that would have been comical had it not been for the conviction in his voice. "You are making Daniel upset. Stop storm chasing now.”

"No," Angela says loudly. "Not him. Absolutely not!"

Cal turns to Laurie, voice firm, "Why did you bring him, Laurie?"

"I barely want to be on this trip, you think I would invite him along, too?"

While the situation escalates, Wade takes his hat off to run his hand through his hair. This wasn't anything anyone could intervene in. Like all disasters in the making, everyone would just have to ride this one out. "We should set up the cameras, Cypress."

Cypress nods. "Lets," they say, looking up at the sky. Something told them, however, that it won't have much use, after all, as the storm clouds miles and miles above them moved past all of them without any thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol


	6. born slippy - nuxx.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Cypress go to the movies.

Night fell. After the arguments and the yelling and the lack of storm chasing, everyone somehow managed to pile back into their respective cars, going their respective ways. Chasing was useless and unsafe at night, so the team made their way to one of the many motels populating the plains. The motel they had chosen to stay at was nothing too luxurious, but it was cheap, clean, and close to where the next line of storms would be approaching soon enough. It would do. 

Dr. Dreiberg had mentioned something about driving back down to Oklahoma City for the night with Walter Kovacs, the man he had shown up to the rendezvous point with. Cypress wouldn't have recognized his real name, but they recognized his code name: Rorschach; a gruff and prickly amateur storm chaser that had given the NSSL and NOAA a run for their money for the past few decades. Their mentor had mentioned him here and there, but Cypress didn't know much about him beyond his contributions to the field. Apparently, Rorschach was a bit of a dick. 

Best avoid that can of worms, Cypress thought to themself, thinking about the others' reactions to the pair's arrival. 

Cypress tossed their weekend bag onto the pull-out couch. The rooms had been split between Jenny, Angela, and Cypress, while Wade and Scare booked another. Cypress has seen Angela's shoulders had stiffened when she overheard Laurie and Cal getting a room of their own, but what could they say to her? They felt the need to comfort her, despite their short time they've both known each other for. 

A soft knock at the door. "Yeah?"

"It's Wade."

Cypress's mouth quirked a bit, trying to force the smile down. "One sec." They looked down at their attire—high-waisted jeans, boots, and a raggedy band T-shirt they'd stolen from an ex a while back—and figured, fuck it, the man had already spent the whole weekend with them anyway inside a shitty camper van with no A/C.

Cypress immediately regretted their decision as soon as they opened the door.

Wade looked sheepish, standing there with a hand against the doorframe. He'd cleaned up for the occasion—he'd traded his long-sleeve T for a gray button-down while keeping his jeans. It wasn't quite formalwear, but it was an obvious effort on his part. Most strikingly, he'd foregone his mirrored sunglasses this time around. Cypress figured this would be the case for most people since it was night-time, but they'd never thought his face could look that much sadder without them.

"They're showing Trainspotting next door at the drive-in if you wanna join.”

Cypress just looked at him, confused.

“You said you liked Trainspotting."

Straight to the point as ever. "Uh," Cypress said, feeling more than a bit silly now. "I can change real quick if you just give me a minute or two—"

"You look fine," Wade drawled. Cypress could see the humor in his eyes, despite the dryness of his tone.

"Alright." Something was different about the man. More confident, almost.

"Let's go, then."

The air outside was an old friend to Cypress. The motel wasn't air-conditioned, but the warm May air embraced them anyways like a blanket over their shoulders. As if the chasing today hadn't been enough, Cypress could feel their short curly hair becoming even frizzier than usual.

"Didn't think they'd be showing something like Trainspotting out here," Cypress commented. 

"Why do you say so?"

"Well... you'll see for yourself, soon enough, I suppose."

Wade and Cypress crossed the street in silence. Across them, a drive-in movie theater played the first of its movies for the night. From above the metal fence, Ewan McGregor and Ewen Bremner tore their way down Princes Street on the large outdoor movie screen. Cypress grinned, hiding their smile from their companion. "Choose life, choose a job, choose a career, choose a family," Rent Boy narrated, the sound of McGregor’s voice absent, but Cypress mouthed the words with him, anyway, knowing the script by heart at this point. If Wade noticed, he didn't say anything. 

Unknown to Cypress, he did notice, and he smiled at the sight.

On the other side of the street, a small snack booth serving the attendees of the drive-in had its lights on, people on the other side of its glass windows scurrying back and forth to serve the customers. A row of wooden park benches lined one of the sides of the building, reminding Cypress of the Little League baseball parks in their hometown neighborhood. At the farthest table, Angela sat by herself. Their face fell a little at the sight. 

Wade coughed. 

"Yeah?"

He nodded before gesturing to the snack. "Would you like anything?"

As if on cue, Cypress's stomach growled embarrassingly loud. "God, yes," they said, walking past Wade to the counter. They noticed Wade look startled out of the corner of their eye, but their body demanded nourishment first and foremost. 

"Could I please have two hot dogs?" Cypress tried to ask, but it came out as more of a demand, nerves getting the best of them. The young blonde at the counter must've been used to rude customers, and she took their money without complaint. Cypress apologized anyway. Behind them, Wade waited.

"If you want, you can pick a table and I'll bring our food out in a bit," he offered. 

"Thanks, man. I'll be over there with Angela," Cypress told him, already around the corner of the building to the woman. Wade sighed silently, turning back to the counter to order.

Angela was still alone, focused on her styrofoam cup of coffee. She looked up as Cypress approached. Her face remained guarded, but her eyes softened a bit after seeing them. "Cypress," she greeted them. 

"Hey, Angela. Is it cool if Wade and I sit here?" Cypress asks before face-palming internally. Why did they have to make it sound like they were middle schoolers? If Angela thought them ridiculous, she made no sign of thinking so outwardly. She nodded. 

"Thanks." Cypress sat down, careful to not throw themself down onto the bench with the weight of the day. 

In the background, behind them, they could hear Renton in the Worst Toilet in Scotland. Gags and laughs came from the workers in the snack shack. Cypress couldn't help but chuckle along. They looked back at Angela, who had fallen silent again, sipping at her coffee. 

"I know we don't know each other that well," Cypress started. They might as well be honest; their last day with the group tomorrow. "But I just wanted to let you know that I think you're, uh. Super cool. The work you're doing, yeah, of course, and your leadership style, and your group, too.” 

Cypress paused, looking over their shoulder to Wade, who still waited for their food. They turned back to Angela. “ It might be overkill at this point, but I'm grateful for having had this weekend with you."

Throughout their little speech, Angela began smiling. Cypress was too engrossed in speaking to notice, but her eyes flickered to behind them, to someone, and back before thanking them in turn. "Thank you, Cypress. If this weekend didn't make you want to quit storm chasing, I don't know what will."

Cypress grinned. "That jury's still out, but I have a feeling I'll be coming back for seconds, soon enough."

Angela's brown eyes twinkled in the night, pleased at their answer. 

Next to Cypress, Wade sat down, bearing food. "Hot dogs?"

"Fuck, I'm starving," Cypress groaned. They thanked Wade before digging in. Wade did the same. 

“Not hungry?” he asked Angela. 

Angela sighed, pushing her now-empty cup away from herself. “I’ll find something at the motel later. I think I still have some oatmeal packets in one of my bags. After this day, I hardly want to eat anything at all.”

Right on cue, Cypress finished off their second hot dog. “If you do get your appetite back, the concession stand is not one bit bad.”

“I’ll pass.”

There were a lot of things Cypress wanted to ask Angela. What was going on between the team and Dreiberg and his partner? What’d he done to them, to her? What was going to happen with Dr. Juspeczyk? What time were they heading back to her farmhouse in the morning? What would happen after that? 

But they didn’t ask her any of that. Angela had closed up, her earlier smile replaced by the weariness of someone dealing with too many moving parts at the same time. Hopefully she’ll get some respite, Cypress thought. If anyone needed it around here, it was her. 

Their train of thought was derailed as Angela got up, getting ready to head in for the night. “It’s getting a bit chilly out here, anyways,” she said as she waved goodnight. The wind had suddenly picked up a bit, but it wasn’t too bad.

Wade and Cypress told her goodnight as Angela walked away before getting up themselves. 

Cypress tossed their paper plates into a nearby trash can and missed. “Damn,” they muttered, crouching down to pick them up. 

Wade beat them to it. He tossed the plates into the trash, landing squarely on top. “Don’t worry about Angela,” he told them, reading their mind. “If she needs help, she’ll let us know. That’s what we’re here for.” 

Cypress didn’t bother correcting him. It’s not like they didn’t want to think about leaving the following morning. They changed the subject. “Are we taking Archie to the movies, then?” They had left the van parked earlier that afternoon in the motel parking lot. 

Wade just smiled and tossed something at them. Cypress caught it with one hand—the keys to Jenny’s Ford. Cypress smiled back, dimples appearing by their wide, toothy smile. Something bloomed in Wade’s chest at the sight of that. 

They walked over to the drive-in—finally, thought Cypress. On the screen, Robert Carlyle started what Cypress liked to call “un desmadre.”

“Car’s right over there,” Wade pointed at the Ford off to their side in the back of the lot. Cypress blushed a bit at the thought of being alone with this almost-stranger in a car at the back of a drive-in movie theater like a couple of teenagers. 

Couldn’t be weirder than actually doing along with this, after the misunderstandings and the tension and the glares, though. 

They were almost at the car, hands on the door handles, when both of them stopped in their tracks. Something shifted. The air was different, weighing heavily on Cypress’s shoulders. 

They locked eyes with Wade. Where there was softness and curiosity before, there was only fear now. Cypress had hoped they wouldn’t see that on any of the meteorologists’ faces this weekend, much less now on a somewhat-date. 

“Fuck,” Wade muttered, looking off behind Cypress. The wanna-be storm chaser whipped around, trying to see what he had just now. 

Beyond the trees, beyond the streetlights, and the houses, there were explosions in the distance. A burst of light here, and then another. Transformers being blown up by something. As to confirm their suspicions, the wind picked up suddenly, blowing straight towards them. 

In the dark of the night, a smudge, darker than anything around it. And then, a low roar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new year new chapter !


End file.
